Choices
by thorteso
Summary: Scenes after the season finale. SPOILER ALERT for finale! What I would love to see happen with my favorite couples next after they are faced with the events of the finale and examining their own lives. MerDer McSexie, O/C COMPLETED
1. Chapter 1

**OK, that finale was intense! I can't sleep and so did a couple vignettes about my favorite couples and how this affected them. Oh, and this is my first Grey's story, so give me feedback!**

**1**

Feeling her hand slip out of mine feels as if the world is slipping through my fingers. I turn and watch as she rushes to Karev's side. For a brief moment I wish I was the one who was shot. Granted, I may not be alive if Lexie and Karev had to save me, but I would give anything if she would look at me like that again.

She said she loves him. What do I do with that? She said she loves him and I love her. And he kept calling her Izzie. Now I know why I was in denial and sleeping around for months, this being in love is heartbreaking.

Teddy is standing next to me in obnoxious pink scrubs and I am standing here watching as Lexie sits beside Karev. Should I follow her? I could at least check on Karev. I tried to hate him for a long time and make his life miserable. But the thing is, he's me. He was broken and Lexie was there for him. Lexie is making him see that he is capable of the happy stuff. That he is _worth_ the happy stuff. Just like she taught me.

Lexie taught me how to love. Without her, I never would have been emotionally able to take in Sloan and even offer to raise a baby. And I really believe she loved me back. But the ironic thing is, she got me ready for all of this big life stuff and she isn't ready for it. She's young and has years left of learning and she isn't ready for a baby and a husband.

My words from a few weeks ago, offering her a husband, haunt me. I see her reaction every night before I go to sleep. I know she loved me. I know she's scared. And I probably just made it worse. Hell, I would settle for a post-it wedding, if it meant she was mine.

Will I wait for her, I don't know. I want to. I know it will be a long time, if ever, that I feel the way I feel about her for someone else. But if she chooses Karev, or anyone else for that matter, and is truly happy, what can I do?

After minutes of self-reflection and watching her cry, I can't take it anymore. The least I can do is offer her a shoulder while she waits for Karev to wake up.

Walking away from Teddy, I enter Karev's room and clear my throat, "Lex?"

She looks up at me and gives me a weak smile but doesn't say anything. After a minute of looking into each other's eyes, I move over and kneel beside her. She is the first person I have ever been able to have the silent eye conversations with. Even after this time apart, we still have it.

I put my hand on her arm and with that she turns to me completely and starts sobbing into my shoulder. Phrases like "it's all my fault" and "I'm so sorry" are spilling out of her. Calmly, I start rocking her and combing my fingers through her hair to soothe her and calm her down. While it hurts to see her in this much pain, to have her in my arms again is like heaven.

After composing herself she pulls her face away from my shoulder and sniffling, looks up at me. All I can say is what I have been repeating for 10 minutes now, "It's going to be OK, Alex is fine and he's gonna make it."

"No, it's not him. I mean I'm glad he is OK and all, but that's not why I am crying. Well, I guess it partly is, but it's just that it's all so much, I mean I…I pulled the plug. I am the one that killed Mr. Clark's wife. It's my fault he got shot. It's my fault they all got shot!"

Grabbing her by the face I make sure she is done rambling before I start speaking. "Lexie, this is not your fault. It's the man with the gun that did the shooting. It's his choice, it's his fault."

"He said I was one of the ones he wanted to kill."

Chills run up and down my spine as I think about what I would have done if Lexie was shot today. She must feel it because she runs her hand up and down my back. All I can whisper harshly is, "Thank God it wasn't you."

She looks up at me and then grabs me in a fierce hug. We sit there for a long time, just hugging each other and reaffirming that we are both alive. Slowly she pulls back to look into my eyes again and simply says, "He thought I was Izzie."

I just nod. I don't know what to say. Anything I say would be biased anyway. She nods back at me and then stands up. She gives Karev a peck on the cheek and then turns to me and holds out her hand. "C'mon, Mark, let's go get some coffee."

Seeing that twinkle in her eye and feeling her hand safely encased in mine once again, I smile and follow her out of Karev's room. Maybe the world hasn't completely slipped away yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is much longer (over two times that of chapter 1) and much more angst-y as it deals with MerDer after the shooting. It just kept coming and they had a lot to say to each other. I mean, after everything that happened to them in the finale, this scene had to be big. Hope you like this chapter too!**

**A week(ish) after the shooting.**

"OK, just a few more steps and then we are in the study," I say as I lead my husband back into the house for the first time since the shooting. The fact that I can lead him anywhere is still a little bit of something to grasp. Part of me died in that OR when I saw his monitor flat line. I fell to the floor following all the pieces of my soul as they shattered.

Derek's groan, as he hugged the pillow and fought his body to take those last few steps to the recliner I had Mark set up in the study, shook me from my nightmare. I probably shouldn't be bearing this much weight as he leans on me, but I still haven't gotten up the nerve to tell him that I lost the baby, let alone that I was pregnant and I am trying my hardest to make everything seem normal. Because nothing is normal.

Derek takes a big sigh of relief as he settled into the chair and lay the pillow aside. I just stand there staring at him not really knowing what to do. I may be a doctor and I may have gotten all whole and healed and wife-y, but I'm really not sure how to handle all of this.

I know a lot of this emotional stuff has to do with the crazy hormones my body is still dealing with. But I just keep thinking back to the bomb, appendicitis, the ferry, and giving Thatcher part of my liver. Derek had to watch me go through all of that. Even when we weren't together or whatever, he still had to deal with being who I am right now. He had to watch me be in pain and at least once he watched me die and come back.

After the drowning, I didn't understand his hovering. But now, as someone who hasn't been home in days and has been sleeping in the chair next to his bed, I get it. I am so afraid that I am dreaming and that he is really gone. I need to be near him, hear the blips of his heartbeat on the monitor, be reassured by Teddy and Cristina that he is fine.

I will never be able to thank Cristina for operating on my husband despite there being a gun to her head. I have apologized for throwing her into the rack countless times as I raced toward Derek only to witness him being shot. I close my eyes tight as I relive seeing the blood spread out over my favorite blue shirt of his. The one that brings out his dreamy eyes. The eyes that I prayed would be staring back at me from our baby in 8 months.

I open my eyes again after taking a deep breath and meet Derek's tired blue eyes with mine. "Mer?"

I blink away the tears and give him a weak smile. "Why don't I get you your pain medication and you get some rest." He gives me a questioning look but I can tell that the trip home took a lot out of him and he is too tired to pursue questioning me. I leave the room quickly, jogging through the house to get the bag I dropped by the door with all of his medication. Quickly I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and rush back to the study. I can't leave him out of my sight for too long.

Derek is already nodding off when I get back but he is awake enough to take the pills and tell me he loves me. I never thought anyone could really love me. But Derek does, even when I am having my dark and twisty moments. And I keep telling myself he will still love me when he finds out that I lost our baby.

A few hours later I am sitting at the desk in the study and staring at our house plans. Staring at the rooms where our kids would play. Staring at the room where our kids would sleep. As a splotch appears on the blueprints I realize I am crying again. I really wish my hormones would regulate. I wish I could go back before I peed on a stick and became excited about having a baby. We've talked about it, mentioned it really. I thought someday yes, I would love to have Derek's children, but until I saw the positive on that white stick, I wasn't sure. I never thought I would physically ache with want for a child. Ache for the loss of this child who I wasn't even expecting.

I was so lost in my dark and twisty thoughts that I did't realize that Derek has been awake and staring at me for a few minutes. Looking up I see his eyes questioning me. I know I can't avoid this forever. I know I have to tell him. But I am an expert at avoiding and still learning how to be his wife.

"C'mere, Mer."

Settling for sitting on the arm of the chair, I wish I could curl up on his lap and seek the comfort that I know only his arms can provide. He stretches his arm farther than he probably should just having had his chest cracked open, to dry my tears. This simple act of love though just makes the tears come faster as I stifle back sobs.

It took a few minutes for me to calm down enough to stop sobbing. "Tell me what's wrong."

I have to tell him. But there are so many things wrong that I don't know where to start. "I saw your monitor flat line," I whisper.

He takes my hand and lays it on top of his heart. I feel his heart beat against my hand, feeling his life force flow through him.

"I saw them use internal paddles on your heart, I literally saw inside of your chest," I whisper again.

He cocks his head to the side and hums "mmm," just like he always does.

After a few minutes of just feeling his heartbeat against my hand, I know he is patiently waiting for more. That's when I start my rambling. "I know you've had to watch me die before, and I am so sorry you had to go through that. I didn't understand it until now. What seeing me flat line and die did to you. For those 30 seconds when I thought your heart wasn't beating I tried to imagine us living on without you. It's impossible. I mean Cristina was standing there with tears running down her face, her hands covered in your blood. Owen was shot on the ground and I didn't know if he was alive and Mr. Clark was in there holding a gun at all of us, and all I could think of was what would happen to us if you died. I don't think I could have gone on.

"I mean you and all of your Muesli and healthy eating, I thought I would never have to watch you in heart surgery, and there you were and I was willing your heart to have a normal rhythm again. And I am sorry for every time I put you through that."

"Shhh, Mer, it's OK, I'm here, I'm alive, we're going to be OK." He wraps his arm tighter around me and even though I know I should be careful, I lean in and bury my face into his neck. We sit there for a while, him rubbing my back, and me breathing in his scent.

"Mer, what else is going on? Why are you so upset?"

"Huh? I just told you, you died in front of me. I thought I lost the only person to ever love me."

"Mer, I love you and I'm not leaving," he paused to take in a deep breath, "but I know there is something else. Cristina was hovering over you at the hospital and even Owen has come and asked how you were repeatedly. A few weeks ago Owen hated you and now he asks about you and if you are OK daily. What else happened?"

"I lost it."

"We all did, it was very stressful. I didn't handle it well and it was like watching my dad be shot all over again. I was so afraid I had left you behind like he left my mother."

"No, Derek, remember when I saw you in your office, before all the craziness?"

"How could I forget the promise of all the dirty sex?" he smirked.

Giving him a weak smile, I grabbed his hand for strength and continued. "I had something to tell you."

"Mere, what is it?"

I can't stop the tears as they choke my throat again. "I wanted it to be special. I wanted to wait until you were in a good mood and not being chief and have us be here at home curled up in bed and make it special. Cristina laughed at me for that. She said that if I could find out by squatting over a toilet, then I should just tell you."

"Wait. You lost it? Us? Mer, were you pregnant?" he asks me in shock.

"I know, I can't believe it, I mean we used a thing and I was shocked, but I was going to tell you that night."

"Were you happy?" he hedged, not sure what my choice had been.

"I didn't think I was ready until I saw the positive test. I wanted your baby. I chose our baby. But with you flat lining and trying to help Owen and the shooter and well...I..."

Without any regard to himself, Derek pulled me into a real hug and just held me. I know that it's all just sinking in for him and I give him a moment but also took the time to be in his comforting arms.

I pull out of his arms. "You must hate me. I know you wanted a baby. It's my fault."

He looks at me with tears in his eyes that look so sad. "Meredith, stop. I'm the one that killed his wife. I'm the one that caused this. It's my fault you were so upset. I just wish you had told me sooner. I could have been here for you. "

"I was so afraid you would leave me after I thought you had really left me and I'm just all over the place. I didn't want to hurt you too. You had to get better. I had to be strong."

"Mer, I am never too busy or too distracted or too tired or too anything for you to tell me something big. It may take me a minute to listen, but if we have learned anything with all that we have gone through, there is always a bomb or a ferry crash or a shooter that might be just around the corner. I didn't need you to make it special, I just needed you to tell me. Next time if you have to pull me out of surgery or yell it to me through the shower curtain, just tell me."

"Next time?"

"Well, I hope after all that you have said, there will be a next time for you to tell me you are pregnant. I mean it may be a month before I am up to trying again, but I want to try if you do."

"Yeah, I think I do," I said, smiling the first real smile in a week. I lay my head back down on his shoulder and sigh in relief from the weight that has been lifted off of me.

"Are you OK, physically I mean?" he asks me in such a sweet way. "You shouldn't be running around taking care of me."

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just have to take it easy and go back to see the doctor in a few weeks. And sorry, but open heart surgery trumps this; you always take care of me, I want to take care of you. "

"How about we take care of each other," he compromises. I nod and lay my head back down.

"Meredith?"

"hmmm"

"I know that we have our perfect post-it and you're my medical proxy and all, but I think we should make it legal. When I can stand for more than 5 minutes we should go down to the court house and get legally married. A piece of paper that says that if something scary like this happens again, the police or doctors or whoever will tell us how the other one is and what is going on."

"Yeah, that would be good."

"OK."

"Hey, Mer?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. And I love our baby. And I'll love the next one."

"I love you too, and our baby and all of the McBabies."

Chuckling softly so as not to hurt himself, he wrapped his arms around me and we both drifted off to sleep in each others arms for the first time in a week.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Here is the next chapter! Sorry it took so long, but life got unexpectedly busy. And I wanted to get this chapter right, so it took a little longer too. Hope you all like it!**

**One month after the shooting**

"Come on in, Owen," I hear Dr. Wyatt call to me as I go for my normal Wednesday afternoon appointment. I have been going to therapy at least once a week with a lot of drop-in appointments for the past month. I went back to therapy a few months ago after the whole incident with Cristina being afraid of me. That was one of the worst moments of my life. After the strangling incident and her being afraid to fall asleep it was bad. But then we hadn't been together for over a year and after going through that hell, I thought we had built trust. The fact that I could scare her told me how out of hand it was all getting and that I needed to go back to therapy.

And then I think I am getting a handle on it all. I think things are going well. Dr Wyatt and I talked about it and I asked Cristina to move in with me. Granted she was drunk, but when she said yes, it was as if she agreed to marry me. I was elated. Then she found out about what I said about Teddy. We fought. I tried to get her to understand that it is still hard for me to live in the now. When I flash back, I not only go to the horror, but to Beth and Teddy and all of the emotions I was feeling when I was in the field.

Then she stopped talking to me. I couldn't answer her when she asked whom I loved. She ended it. And I gave up. I was serious when Teddy told me I had to choose. I was taking myself out of the equation. I was not going to choose. But the thing is, you have to choose. There comes a point when the fence isn't worth it anymore. Neutral isn't always the least painful. Or Switzerland as Cristina once told me she called it.

Being a retired Major from the Army and a Trauma surgeon a lot of people would think that I could just make a decision and move on. It is my job to look at a patient and determine immediately if that person needs my help, to what extent, and what I should do. Triage is something you learn quickly in my profession. But it's something I have never been able to apply to my personal life.

Today marks one month from when I picked a side of the fence. Today marks the day I re-took control of my personal life.

"So, Owen, how have you been this week? Have you been sleeping alright?"

"Well, I did have the same nightmare again last night…"

Since the shooting I have entered into a whole new phase of nightmares. I close my eyes and see Cristina with a gun held to her head. The dream takes on many forms. Sometimes it is exactly how my adrenaline-fogged memory remembers it. Walking into the scrub room to see Cristina with a gun to her head as she operated on Derek. Rushing into the OR and standing there helplessly as Gary Clark prepared to shoot her. I think that helpless feeling is the worst. I have been trained to handle so many different crises that feeling helpless is just not acceptable to me. It's something I have been working on with Dr. Wyatt; not everything is in my control; not everything is my fault.

The second version of the dream is the one that wakes me up screaming at night. I am there watching the woman I love operate on her "twisted" brother in-law. At this point I have a bullet in my shoulder, which hurts, but I am just grateful that I deflected Clark from Meredith; Cristina would never forgive herself or me if Meredith had been hurt or killed. I am lying there on the floor and have just regained consciousness to see him pull the trigger and watch as a bullet rips through Cristina. Meredith is screaming on the floor next to me, effectively losing her best friend and her husband with one shot, and while I think she is the one screaming, I realize it's me. I'm the one who is screaming, wailing louder than all the banshees in hell.

The third and most bone-chilling version is the type I had last night. I wake up in a cold sweat shaking and can't get back to sleep. The problem with this version of the dream is that it can't be solved with waking up and reassuring myself that Cristina is indeed alive and Clark is now dead. He can't ever hurt her.

The thing that defines this category of dream, as Dr. Wyatt tries to lump them together with me, is my silence. This is the dream scenario of me staying in Switzerland. There were a lot of choices I made that day but two were crucial. The first one was when I went back into the hospital. Teddy knew. In that moment she knew who I chose and we both made peace with it. She ran interference as I sprinted back into the hospital to find Cristina as she flew solo in probably the worst circumstances. I have dreams where the police stop me from going inside or worse yet, my decision is to stay outside in safety and wait instead of going to find Cristina.

The other important choice I made that day was in the scrub room. I walked in to see Meredith and Dr. Kepner huddling on the floor clutching each other's hands. I know that Cristina must have ordered her sister to sit on the floor and not to look. Otherwise, if Meredith could have seen what I was seeing, she wouldn't just be sitting there. I, as calmly as possible, put on a mask and tell Meredith I am just going in to see if Cristina needs me. In reality I break through to the OR and tell Clark to get away from the woman I love. In my dream however, I am stuck in the scrub room. I can't get out. The door is locked, the door doesn't exist, Meredith and Kepner stop me, or my feet just don't move. But there is something stopping me from getting to Cristina.

I kick and scream and bang on the glass but it is all sound proof. No matter how much I try, I cannot tell Cristina that I love her. I cannot tell her I choose her. Sometimes I don't even have a voice and no one knows how much I love her.

Because the thing is I do love her. It has always been Cristina. The me that survived the ambush has always loved Cristina. This thing that gets in my head and the flashbacks, they make me into a person I cannot be anymore. I am stuck in a limbo between two worlds and it is so hard to just choose to live in the present and see things as if it is in the after. That is another thing I am working on with Dr. Wyatt; waking up every morning and choosing to live today. Choosing to take one step at a time. Choosing to be at peace with myself. And in all that, following my heart and choosing to love my dark-and-twisty, surgery-obsessed, cardio goddess-in-training. (Although it is widely talked about at the hospital that since flying solo operating on the chief with a gun to her head, she is no longer "in-training".)

"It is understandable that today of all days you would have a nightmare. There is no silver-bullet fix Owen, it's one day at a time."

"I know. It's frustrating. A month ago right now I was getting a bullet in my shoulder."

A quick knock at the door and then the sound of the door opening makes me pick up my head.

"Sorry, I'm late, surgery went long."

Despite lack of sleep and the nightmares that are at the forefront of my mind, a smile breaks out across my face. Rushing in to take a seat on the couch next to me and grabbing my hand mindlessly, is the woman I have been musing about. Ever since the traumatic events at the hospital and specifically in that OR, Cristina has been coming to some of my therapy sessions with me.

I almost didn't know how to respond when she was sitting at my bedside the night of the shooting. As I woke up, she declared that she was going to be going to therapy with me for a while. Besides nodding my head and saying OK, I didn't know how to respond. But it has turned out to be one of the best decisions she made for us.

We are working on trust, our nightmares, our past, and our dreams for the future. And it feels wonderful to be able to say a lot of these things to her and be able to talk about them with her. I have found that by including Cristina in my past by sharing it with her, my feelings are a lot less confusing. We both have our days, but there seem to be more good days than bad days now.

Cristina finishes the hour with me and then we both go grab some coffee. One of the things that I love about the after of a therapy session is our comfort in the silence, our comfort in just sharing space with the other. All too soon her pager goes off and she hurriedly stands up to go find Teddy. But before leaving, she leans over, gives me a quick kiss and says three words that I will never tire of hearing..."Take care now."

**AN: I loved that episode when Owen uses "Take care now" instead of "I love you". I know they were/are at a point where they can use the L word, but I think it is a unique way for them to convey how they really feel without saying the traditional over-used words. Especially if they are rebuilding trust after the whole Owen maybe loving Teddy thing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**FINALLY, I got this written on a computer! Sorry for the wait, but real life got crazy and I couldn't post as quickly as I did before. This is the last chapter and is a little different because it doesn't focus on a couple, but the perspective of one person, as well as update on everyone else (kinda).**

**ONE YEAR LATER**

It was one year ago today. One year ago today I denied who I was. When I stared down the barrel of a gun, I denied my profession. I denied the job that destroyed my marriage. I denied my passion. I denied myself and everything that I am.

Because I am a surgeon.

I can't figure out what part of me said that I was a nurse. Was it the person, the human being, who wasn't ready to face the hereafter? Do I have unfinished business or regrets about this life that made me want to stay here a little longer? There have been a lot of ups and downs in the past few years, professionally and personally, but I try to live my life without regrets. Keep my eye on the big picture. Strive to do my best for those who come under my care and strive to be the best single working mother I can be. I was finally putting my love life back together. I was living my life and was for the first time in a long time, not dragged down by sadness and misunderstanding.

Was it the surgeon? Surgeons are known to be cocky and arrogant. We are the slice and dice, get in-get out experts of medicine. That may be who we are to people like Gary Clarke, but I can say, that if I have learned anything in my time here at Seattle Grace, it is that the wonderful doctors I work with are not what the stereotype is. Sure we have our moments of feeling like we are God, but we aren't. I have seen my colleagues put aside personal heartbreak to focus on saving the life of a stranger. I have seen human beings with all of their faults try to put one foot in front of the other and endure tragedies and crises that few ever see in their lifetime. Out of my interns, everyone of them has been under the knife, everyone of them has seen romantic heartbreak, I have seen four get married and one almost get married, and then three get divorced. I have watched them lose loved ones. I have watched while George (and Meredith and Alex and Izzie to a point) died.

These doctors are like my children. I raised them from med school graduates to residents who are flying solo on amazing surgeries and running clinical trials. And they were there when I became a mother. I think that they were my practice. I am so glad Tuck has gotten to know some of these brave people. I'm not even sure I would be able to get out of bed in the morning if I had to live through what they have. I think the answer to my musings must be that it was the mother in me that lied. I lied for my babies. Not that I am so arrogant to think that they couldn't live without me, but rather that I want to watch them continue to grow and take on the world.

I lied so that I can sing lullabies to Tuck, listen as Meredith rambles, push Cristina to say her please and thank-you's, and watch Alex overcome his mysterious and troubling past.

I lied so that I can watch as Alex moves on with his life and is proving to be one of the best neo-natal/pediatric residents I have seen in a long time. He is so passionate about his patients well being. He is determined that their life is going to be better than his. And that he will do everything in his power to protect them. And I am watching him make peace with his past and learn to love who he is before he jumps into another relationship.

I lied so that I can be there to remind Cristina to say please to her attendings, especially Altman. Although the girl flew solo and saved Shepherd, she still has a lot to learn. And Teddy is just the right person to teach her. But I am also there to remind her to be more than a surgeon. To look at the big picture. I remember a time when all I wanted to do was learn how to do more and more surgeries and watch all I could. But Cristina has the love of a good man who understands her, and I am pushing her to thank God that she has him and never take him for granted.

And I lied for Meredith. I have watched that girl go through hell and back (and back and back). From McDreamy McDrama, to bombs and drowning, to dead mommy, and the thing that I think hit the hardest, to watching bright and shiny Meredith lose her baby, that girl has been through it all. I have been in the scrub room with her a couple times, _the scrub room_, and listened to her ramble out her nervousness. Before I knew about the baby, I heard a lot of questions about when was the best time in a residency to have a baby and my thoughts on motherhood. Then one day, we had an 8-week pregnant patient on the table. We were successful in the surgery, but we were unsure as to whether the baby would make it since it was so early in the pregnancy. That was the day Meredith broke. She told me all about the miscarriage and that even though she and Derek decided to not prevent it anymore, she was terrified she would get pregnant and it would happen again. And I listened. It was all I could think to do. It has been a long year of growth for the Shepherds, but I think, even though Meredith might not realize it yet, the smell of surgery is making her a little greener and she is crankier than usual. We might get our happy ending baby soon.

And for my happy ending baby. Although my marriage had a sad ending, I cannot think of Tuck as anything but a blessing. He is starting preschool and I feel like his life is flashing in front of my eyes. There will be a day soon when he won't want a lullaby, but as long as he lets me, I will sit beside him and hold his hand as he slips off to dreamland.

I would probably say that I was a nurse if the same thing happened today. I am not ready to stop being here for my babies, or even for the others, Lexie and Mark, Callie and Arizona, or even the Chief as he reclaims himself.

As I step out of the elevator and into the hall where we held Charles, I take a moment to stop and thank him. The memory makes me sad. But it also makes me happy. The memory of Charles, who was brave enough to say he was a surgeon when held at gunpoint, has made me a better person. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and slowly move onto my next patient down the hall. I choose to be a surgeon AND a mother, and I will not regret that.

**Hope that was worth the wait!**


End file.
